The Division: Sleepy
by TheBananaBox
Summary: Because Agents need to sleep too. (A quick fanfic about a very sleepy and out of it agent. Not great, but I just felt like writing something.)


The snow fell gently downwards, giving the city a fresh new coat of icy slush. It would have made most people want to curl up with a nice blanket and get a cup of hot cocoa. That sounded nice to him, but he didn't really have the time right now, did he?

He wondered when the last time he just stopped and took a breather was. He sat down on the helicopter. That was something.  
Oh, he leaned against the wall a good few times, that counted, right?  
He had found himself lying down in the infirmary more times than he would have liked. That counts for sur-

He was jolted from his thoughts when a bullet struck the car right next to him.

"Oh, right." He said, loading a fresh magazine and quickly racking his rifle's bolt.  
 _"You're dead!"_ A Riker began to yell before they fell to the floor, the hole in their chest the most likely cause of their sudden demise.  
Man, he was really running on autopilot lately.  
Speaking of autopilot, where was he going again? Honestly, this operation had become kind of a blur.  
He wasn't even sure when he got here. Yesterday? Last week? Last month? He supposed that it didn't really matter, but his mental state was at least somewhat worrying.  
 _But it probably wasn't a..._  
 _big..._  
 _deal..._

... How long had he been walking? He had blanked out for a while there.  
Alright, that's **very** worrying actually. Still, he had a job to do. People needed him, and he wasn't going to take a break just because he was a bit grog-  
"Thanks for all the good work."  
Huh?  
Oh, there were people here. He was at an intersection-turned-supply distribution center. Dozens of civilians were lined up to get food, water, and medical supplies. Guarding them were a few thinly stretched and poorly armed JTF officers. He turned his head to the officer that had spoken to him.

"What?"

"Thanks for all the good work!" He repeated. "We really couldn't do it without you guys."

He blinked, finally shaken from his "adrenaline, sleep deprivation, and SHD supplied medicine" induced trance.

"... just doing my job really." He replied.

"Oh come on! Have you ever seen yourself fight? You guys are incredible!"

He had him there. He was VERY good at killing people, but whether that was to be praised or criticized was yet to be seen.

"Do you guys ever sleep anyway?"

His eyes struggled to focus on the new voice's owner for a bit, before recognizing that it was a female officer who had just sat down.

"Guess that answers my questions." She said, chuckling to herself.

Actually, when WAS the last time he had slept? Just, took off his gear, laid down, and consciously decided to stop being awake.

"... I'm not sure when the last time I slept was, actually." He said, more to himself than to her.

"I can see that." She said sarcastically.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yes, yes it is."

"Seriously buddy, you need to get some shut eye." The male officer chimed in again.

That did sound nice actually. Maybe that would be for the best. After he saved these next few hostages, he had to make contact with the nearby safe house. He could go there, and just lay dow-

"Hey, agent, sorry to bother you"

Well, there goes that plan. He sighed, seriously annoyed at how often his thoughts got interrupted these days, and took his radio off his belt.

"What is it?"

"Just wanted to say that those hostages I mentioned earlier have been rescued by a JTF patrol, no need to help."

"Oh, sorry. I was-"

"It's okay, it's JTF's job too you know."

"Right right, shall I head to the safe house now?"

"Might as well. Over and out."

The radio cut out.

"Looks like it's your lucky day pal." The male officer said.

"And look at that, perfect timing!" The female officer said, pointing to the now beginning to set sun.

Wasnt it only morning a few minutes ago?  
Right, sleep it is then. He bid the two officers farewell before setting off for the safe house.

"Good luck!" The man yelled.  
"You better hope they have real beds!" The woman yelled.  
He chuckled to himself quietly.

The walk to the safe house was a short one, but it felt like it had taken hours.

He tiredness had never caught up with him like this. He eyelids fought to close and his feet dragged behind him. He considered himself very lucky that, for once, no one had decided to shoot at him for no reason.

He finally stumbled through the doors of the safe house, tried as hard as he could to listen to the JTF officer's summarized life story, and shambled to bed. It was a fairly tiny bunk bed, but at this point, it looked like a king's sleeping quarters. He barely had time to throw his hat, vest, and shoes off before he went down.

He was asleep before he hit the pillow.

(Sorry if this is garbage, I just felt like writing something.)


End file.
